


Good to be alive

by korereapers



Series: Mythos AU (Losers PJO AU) [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, F/M, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Suicide Attempt, Supernatural Elements, realistic reactions to your husband almost killing himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28466619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korereapers/pseuds/korereapers
Summary: "Despair, you come to me, with your poison and your miseryOh oh death you come to sting with your poison and your misery"
Relationships: Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Series: Mythos AU (Losers PJO AU) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085135
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Good to be alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KT1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KT1/gifts).



> "Por lo común la muerte  
> es solamente un niño  
> de cara triste  
> un niño  
> que sale de la noche  
> sin motivo  
> sin miedo  
> sin fervor  
> un pobre niño viejo  
> que deja caer su mano  
> sobre mi corazón."
> 
> Mario Benedetti

Patty has never thought of Stanley as odd, but there are indeed a couple of things that she cannot really explain about him. Occurrences that just happen and that she has accepted as normal.

It was Stanley who proposed to her, a daisy on a ring, his lips twitching in a handsome smile. He had caressed the flower delicately, his dark eyes without a hint of insecurity. And she had accepted, of course she had. Stan had sighed, his confidence unwavering, but something else making his smile a bittersweet one.

They had gotten married, and Patty had learned, with time and effort, to stop hating herself and the world, and to welcome love in her life. Stan had held her hand through the process, telling her where to apply for a job, deciding to move to Atlanta, as if some kind of invisible force was telling him where to go, what to do.

“You’re like a psychic.” Patty jokes sometimes, and Stan just smiles, his dark eyes becoming darker, something unsaid, something unknown, something unseen.

She has never believed in those things, but she has to admit that Stanley has a gift. A gift for something, many things, but a gift, something precious, something that draws him to success, as if he was some kind of royalty wanting to take the crown.

His posture does look regal as he reads a book in their garden. The author is William Denbrough, and Patty recognizes him as a young adult author who writes mostly about greek mythology. He writes human relationships marvellously, and some of his stories are kinda dark. Kids seem to like them, and so does her husband, apparently.

It’s then when something strange happens, and Patty can just look, a crow flying around the garden, cawing loudly as if to get Stan’s attention.

Stanley’s eyes are dark, even darker than usual, and he doesn’t even look up when the crow perches on his head, seemingly content with Stan’s soft hair. Patty looks at the scene in disbelief, because yes, Stanley has always liked birds, looking at the sky like it’s something unattainable, like he is chained to the ground while the rest of the world is free to fly.

She doesn’t get it, but alas, she doesn’t get many things about Stanley, even if he trusts her endlessly, even if he tells her everything. She is his best friend, his confidant, his wife. Stan trusts her, and Patty trusts him back with all of her might.

A second crow soars the sky, and then a third one, and it comes a moment in which Patty loses count, and Stanley is just peacefully reading in the middle of their garden, his eyes unnaturally dark, and when he looks at her, all of the crows move their heads in unison, like they’re all one and the same.

It should be unnerving, really, but Patty finds herself laughing. That seems to break the spell, the crows dispersing when Stanley laughs too, his eyes back to normal, his expression sweet, always sweet.

“They just wanted to read with me, babylove.”

“I swear I’m not jealous.”

Stan had promised, when they got married, that he would never hurt her. He has never, and Patty trusts him more than enough to know he never will.

That’s why she feels oddly betrayed when he finds him, almost unconscious, the bathtub water red with blood, both of Stanley’s wrists cleanly cut, almost methodically. She feels betrayed, and she hates herself for it.

Patty hates herself as the ambulance comes for them both, because she is having an anxiety attack after like ten years of having felt a little better about herself. Slowly but surely. Patty hates herself, as much as she loves him, and hates him at the same time.

She hates herself because she is as angry as she is relieved when they tell her Stan is going to live, that she has nothing to worry about. The damage is done, though, and she cries herself to sleep by his side, uncomfortably sitting on the hospital armchair.

Patty hates her own guts more than ever, because when Stan wakes up, she tries to swallow the feeling, she tries not to cry, but fails. Stan reaches out, an apologetic smile on his lips. Not an easy smile, but one that hurts. Patty despises herself, because even if she is relieved, even if Stan is alive, she still says what she’s not supposed to.

“You promised… you…”

She doesn’t have to explain anything. She apologizes immediately after, but Stan takes her hand, kissing her knuckles with reverence, and Patty always feels loved, beautiful, good enough when he does that.

“I’m sorry, babylove. I’m the one that should be apologizing.”

Patty holds his hand, promising herself to never let go, to help him through anything, to support him so he heals, like she did back in the day. She married him because she loves him. Patty loves him so much that she hates him sometimes, and hates herself for hating him.

“You don’t have to promise me.” she says, her voice shaking a little. “But please, know that I’ll help you, that I’ll be here for you, forever.”

Stan smiles, and his smile does look more like his this time. Patty has never deemed herself smart, not compared to him, who seems to have everything under control, even in this situation.

“You’re the sweetest woman I could have married. You’re the love of my life,” Stan murmurs against her knuckles, kissing them again. “I trust you, babylove.”

And he starts talking. He talks, and talks, about mythos, about mortal peril, about monsters that eat children and about friends that made it worth the risk. He talks about royal blood and demigods, and while Patty knows Stan’s parents, Stan had indeed told him that his father was not his biological father. It’s just too difficult to believe, even if she knows that Stanley would never lie to her. Never has. Never will.

“Hades.” she repeats, her voice a little weak because of the tears and the confusion. “You’re a son of Hades.”

Stanley nods, blinking slowly, as if he had forgotten, because he had forgotten. His eyes turn darker, and yet darker, but they’re still his sweet eyes, the ones that made Patty fall in love the day he met him first.

“I have to go back. To my friends. I have to help them. Mike said-”

There’s a lot of things Patty doesn’t understand. A lot about Stan’s early life that seems otherworldly, impossible, hard to believe. She still trusts him, and nods gently as he holds his hands between her own. She smiles a little, her bright eyes even brighter, and Stanley’s expression becomes softer when she speaks.

“I’ll go with you. I promised, didn’t I?”

Stan’s smile grows fonder, if that’s even possible. He looks handsome, the sunset light making his features sharper. He looks like a dark prince, and Patty has never been more in love.

“‘Til death do us part.”

There is a crow looking at them from the window. From anyone else, Patty would have taken it as a bad omen, but Stan seems calm, as if he knew, because he knows.

Everything’s going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy new year from Spain, everyone! Find me at korepers on twitter


End file.
